Put Down the Whip
Why we can’t turn one moment into permission for cruelty
There’s a peculiar kind of Christian who lights up when they talk about Jesus flipping tables in the Temple. Their eyes get a little brighter. Their posture straightens. Finally, they seem to say, here’s the Jesus who vindicates my anger, my sharp tongue, my public callouts, my refusal to budge. Here’s the Jesus who says it’s okay to be mean if you’re right.
I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately because I keep seeing it, particularly in my comment sections. In the way some people talk about their political opponents or their theological enemies. They’re not interested in “love your enemies” or “blessed are the peacemakers” or “turn the other cheek.” Those teachings get a polite nod, maybe a quick “yes, but—” before we rush headlong into the one story that lets us off the hook. The one where Jesus gets mad. The one with the whip.
Last week, I received a dozen comments like this one:
